Perhaps that somewhere is here.
Perhaps that someone, is you.
THE SAVIOUR GOT LOST IN THE MIRROR
If the only reason you help is so that you can tell people that you help, I don’t need your help.
THE RAIN WAS ONCE A CLOUD
Know someone as much as you can. Hold onto the moments that define them. Then when their body leaves, they won’t.
THE BLOOD RED LIE
The best time to reflect is when you like the person looking back.
THE MOMENT MY SKIN BRUSHED AGAINST YOURS
But really, all we want, and I speak for the entire human race here, is contact. Someone to let us know that we aren’t alone. That the world isn’t a dream and you and I really are happening at the same time, even if it’s not in the same place. That this is real. You’re really there. I’m really here. We’re real.
This is real.
THE PACKAGING OF PEOPLE
“But this is just another box.”
“No it’s not, it’s the box we put you in if you say ‘Don’t put me in a box.’”
THE DEFENDERS OF THE FORGOTTEN
You are nobody’s hero. And nobody needs you. Desperately.
THE PRESSURE TO THE WOUNDED
You know I just wouldn’t be human if I didn’t try and hold your hand as it disintegrated from the light of a thousand suns somewhere above Hiroshima. Or kiss the tears from your cheeks in Iraq, like the sweat from your brow in Zimbabwe. It isn’t in me not to try and lift the rubble crushing you in Gaza or hide you in Rwanda. Like a last hug in a building in New York or the water we shared in Afghanistan. More than the blood we mixed in Flanders or the sandy beach we trod in Normandy. Longer than the fires burned in Dresden or Soweto. I won’t let go of your hand.
THE PLACE I’M IN
You cannot kill me here. Bring your soldiers, your death, your disease, your collapsed economy because it doesn’t matter, I have nothing left to lose and you cannot kill me here. Bring the tears of orphans and the wails of a mother’s loss, bring your God damn air force and Jesus on a cross, bring your hate and bitterness and long working hours, bring your empty wallets and love long since gone but you cannot kill me here. Bring your sneers, your snide remarks and friendships never felt, your letters never sent, your kisses never kissed, cigarettes smoked to the bone and cancer killing fears but you cannot kill me here. For I may fall and I may fail but I will stand again each time and you will find no satisfaction. Because you cannot kill me here.
THE GROUND WILL GIVE WAY
The bad news is, your choices and intentions, some people and places, those nights spent awake and all you’ve done, can lead you to the bottom of the pit.
The good news is, this wouldn’t be the first time someone’s crawled, tooth and nail, out of hell.
THE WORLD NEEDS MORE LIGHTHOUSES
You can join the millions talking in the dark. Or you can stand up and scream light, out into the night.
THE GREAT BURNING OF SUPPER
It sounds pretty but I disagree. I believe there are moments in your life when you have to dance like everyone is watching.
THE BUBBLES ARE YOUR FRIENDS
And though the waves might bring you down and though the currents might pull you under, the sky is always still right above you. And your friends will show you the way.
THE PERFECT APATHY
You remember and dwell on all the things you’ve lost and ignore all the things you haven’t. Because your scars are like stars. Yet the night stays perfectly black.
THE FINITE CURVE
You will only be hurt a finite number of times during your life.
You have an infinite number of ways to deal with it.
THE SHOP THAT LETS YOU RENT HAPPINESS
“This is the one.” The universe assures me from behind the counter.
“But I thought you said the last one was the one.” I reply.
“No.” Says the universe. “I sold you that one so you would know that this, this is the one.”
“Is there another one?” I ask the universe.
“I can’t tell you.” They reply. “It’d ruin the surprise.”
THE DAY YOU READ THIS
On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real.
That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones.
That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead.
That you control that completely.
That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too.
That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music.
That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends.
That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That that’s why it’s worth living.
That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around.
That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever. That rain is beautiful.
And so are you.
THE ARRIVALS LOUNGE
A plane landed and a man in a scruffy coat leaned forward and wondered if this was the one. People got off and walked into the large, gleaming white terminal, where they were either met by others (some in tears but everyone smiling) or if no one was there to greet them, they looked around, shrugged, sat down in one of the long rows of aluminum chairs and either listened to music or read a book or just stared off into the distance in the kind of shell shock that normally comes from long distance travel. Several made phone calls. One, for whatever strange reason, tried to go back through the gate, to get back on the plane. Security, gently, held him at bay.
The old man had seen it all before but he didn’t mind waiting. He’d gotten quite good at it. There were exactly 128 chairs in terminal D. The roof had exactly 864 crisscrossing tiles. The planes landed every 11 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds. He knew. He’d had enough time to count. He read the paper. It was always the same paper, but each day, there was always a different story about someone he knew on the front page.
Exactly 11 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds later, he was too absorbed in the paper and the lullaby of the announcer coming over the terminal speakers to notice the small, diminutive female form standing next to him.
“Hello.” She said.
He looked up from his paper.
“I think I know you.”
“Yes, I think you do,” he replied.
f cigarettes for a bicycle, in the middle of the war, then rode it for five hours to see me.”
“I think that was me. I can’t remember. I think we ran a grocery store together. I remember cobblestone streets and a newsagent next door. The children would buy comic books. There was a harbour.”
“I think that happened.”
There was a silence.
“How was your flight?” he finally asked.
“Good. There was some turbulence towards the end but other than that it was fine.”
She rubbed her arms.
“Did you get everything done that you needed to do?”
“Quite a bit. Most of it I think.”
“Well, that’s all you can really ask for.”
“I suppose so. The tea was nice.”
“That’s good then,” he said with a smile.
“Are we supposed to get a taxi now?”
“No, not yet I don’t think.”
“Then what do we do?”
He cleared some space next to him on the aluminum chair then took his coat off and scrunched it up to make a pillow.
“I think we’re meeting someone.”
“Oh. Will we have to wait long?”
“No. Not in the greater scheme of things. They serve tea, just ask for one when the woman comes round with the tray.”
“Is it good?”
“The best you’ve ever tasted.”
By the time the next plane landed, she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.
THE LAST THING YOU SAID
As you lay dying, we asked if there was anything else you wanted us to include in the book before we sent it back to you.
“Love, at every opportunity you are given to love. Be less afraid. Embrace each day (none are promised). Cry when you need to, it’ll make you feel better. You were put on this planet to feel every feeling you could, do that. Everything works out in the end.
I promise.”
Table of Contents
SUN,
The Layers Unseen
The First Sign Is Taking Strange Pictures
The Bibliography Of Strings
The Corners Of Your Mouth
The Shape Of It
The Point Of Contact
The Time It Takes To Fall
The Seat Next To You
The Shipwreck In My Head
The Pattern Is A System Is A Maze
The Missed Appointment
The New Colour
The Moths Don’t Die For Nothing
The Clearly Labeled
The Drive Before Dawn
The Wet Hair And Eyes
The Shape Falls At Your Feet
The Excuse For Your Company
The Lantern In The Lifeboat
The Paint Hides The Brick
The Way Glass Breaks
The Truth Is Born In Strange Places
The Important Things Humans Do
MOON,
The Children Of Time
The Ghost Train
The Day Tomorrow Came
The Train Of Lies
The Fragile Arc
The Corner Of Me And You
The Books Never Written
The To Not Do List
The Rules Of Engagement
The Speed Of Feeling
The Heart Beats Per Minute
The Needle And Ink
The Heart Rides On
The Lovers Bleed Into Each Other
The Things That Are Left
The Circus Is Cheaper When It Rains
The Song Across Wires
The Fury Of Water
The Place Where Nothing Hurts
The Fire At Sea
The Beautiful Mess We Could Be
The Title Screen
The Bleach
The Stranger In Waiting
The Heart We Share
The Road Map Back
The Shape Of Air
The Lipstick On The Window
The Absence Of Oxygen
The Scars You Love
The Zodiac Of One
The Static On The Line
The Tender Tinder Box
The Slight Pinch
The Wishing Well In The Sky (Letters To Father Time)
The Humans Aren’t Recyclable
The Place Where I Wait
The Ebb And Flow
The Point Past Peak Feelings
The Picture We Make
The Diaries Of Foreign Lovers
The Lack Of Postcards
The Translation Service
The First Time We Met
The AWOL Hearts
The Forgotten Feeling
The First Crack Is The Last
STARS,
The Place Where You Get Off
The Bargain
The Skeletons In The Sea
The Forgotten Star
The Seraphim And The Pirate
The One I Miss
The Stranger In You
The Leftovers
The End Of That
The Bridge From Solitude
The Sheer Arrogance Of Loneliness
The Heart Is Red
The Bastards Tied Me Down
The Shade
The Truth Is Ugly
The Skin I’m In
The Floor Takes So Long To Hit
The Cupboard Is Empty
The Tiny Iceberg
The B-Train
The Rose Is Not Always A Rose
The Mechanics Of Puppetry
The Bystander Picks Something Up
The Leave Behind
The Simple Shattering Of Water
The Glass Tower
The Sea Reclaims The Land
The World Is Too Big
The Green Curtain
The Princess Is In Another Castle
The Monsters I Miss
The Error Of Parallax
The History Of Arson
The Things Sold By The Sea Shore
The Tales From Bar
The Last Days
The Slipstream We’re Caught In
The Death Of Love
The Missing Exclamation Marks
The Lying Tree
The Day After The Crash
The Future Is The Past Waiting To Happen
The Next Stop
The Sun Or The Moon
The City Rises And Falls
The Blue Lines
The Water Is On Fire
The Seconds Before Launch
The Grim Alternatives
The Promise Sleep Made Me
The Theory Is Still Just A Theory
The Tick-Tock In Your Chest
The Fragments Belong Together
The Water Flows Uphill
The Fading Glow
The Twins
The Empty Classroom
The World Is Better Backwards
RAIN.
The Angel Of Almost
The Best Way To Run Into Traffic
The Hope Of Symmetry
The Catwalk In The Sky
The Medicine Is The Sickness
The Fragments Of Hope
The Reason The Willow Weeps
The Lack Of Apologies
The Truth Behind Glass Mountains
The Flowers Of 3753 Cruithne
The Need For Honesty After Midnight
The Place Sentences Go To Die
The People We Could Be
The Inscription
The Wood In Trees
The Red Sky At Night
The Amount Of People Who Like This
The Nod And The Wink